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FLORIDA DAYS 



By VILMA M. GOODMAN 




FLORIDA DAYS 



By 

VILMA M. 
GOODMAN 




Copyrighted 1922, by 
Vilma M. Goodman. 






jg: 



CONTENTS 

Page 

CHAPTER /.—On the "Comanche" 5 

CHAPTER //.—In Charleston 1 1 

CHAPTER HI. — First Impressions on the East and West Coast 

of Florida 14 

CPIAPTER /r'.— Sail to Key West and Back to East Coast of 

Florida ' 27 

CHAPTER F— In West Palm Beach 32 

CHAPTER VI . — Last and Lasting Impressions 44 




ILLUSTRATIONS 

Page 

Gronnds of the Hotel Ponce De Leon, St. Augustine, Florida.. 15 
Orlando Country Club. — Orlando (jolf Links. — Golf Tournament, 

■March, 1922 1/ 

Tampa Bay Hotel, Tampa, Florida 19 

Cocoanut Palms and Bay of Biscayne. ]Miami, Florida 29 

Cocoanut Palms, Cord Gables, near Miami 30 

Bathing at Gus's Baths, Palm Beach, Florida 33 

Jungle Trail, Palm Beach, Florida 1. 35 

View of Palm Beach and West Palm Beach and Lake Worth, 

(taken from above) ,36 

Ridgewood Avenue, Daytona ( Spanish Moss) 45 



•fes^« 






ici.Auynoss 

NOV -[: \\522 



V 



PREFA CE. 

^yOME of my adventures and experiences 

ij may be of value to tourists of limited 

means ( like myself ) , who go to Florida 

not only for recreation and change of climate, 

but to gain strength and to rest. 

I met ladies in Florida who were not in- 
valids, and only needed pleasant surroundings 
to be benefited by their trip South. 

After one or two trying experiences, they 
grew disheartened (disgusted I might say), 
and without remaining long enough to get suf- 
ficiently rested, after a long journey, booked 
on the first train or steamer North. 

I am indeed thankful that I had the cour- 
age and strength to pack my trunk and change 
my environment by traveling from the West 
Coast to the East Coast of Florida. 

Had I been very favorably impressed, or 
perfectly satisfied and comfortable at my first 
destination, I would not have seen the most 
beautiful sections of Florida and could not 
have had the pleasure of meeting the kind and 
interesting people mentioned in my travels. 



Florida Days. 

CHAPTER I. 

On The "Comanche." 

HAVING practically recovered my health, strength, 
spirits and abounding energy in the Fall of 1918, 
after a long siege of illness, my loyal and well- 
meaning friends advised and even urged me to take a 
trip — either to California or Florida, in order to escape 
the rigors of our New York winter. 

I delight in travel and sight-seeing, and, as the pre- 
vious winter had been an unusually severe one, and as 
my niece and nephew were quite grown up and did not 
seem to need me, I was easily persuaded that a winter 
spent under the radiance and warmth of Florida's trop- 
ical sun would not only act as an elixir, but have a rejuv- 
enating effect. Oh ! thou warm sun of the tropics ! To 
'bask in thy sunshine, during the cold winter months, I 
left my nearest of kin and friends, sacrificed many days 
of comfort and rest, the Opera and theatre season in New 
York (on passes), a stylish new suit and coat, warm furs, 
and spent that money, and more, travelling and journey- 
ing from the Atlantic Coast to the Gulf of Mexico and 
back again in search of an earthly Paradise of beauty, 
warmth and material comfort ! My you^ig nephew here 
would say that there is no such "animal" or "triple 
alliance" as the above. 

An acquaintance who heard of my plans urged me 
to go to A. . . . on the West Coast of Florida, where it 
never rains (?). She knew that I was not in quest of 
excitement, fashion or gayety, and insisted that I join a 

friend of hers, a Mrs. X , who had built a bungalow 

in the midst of an orange-grove there, and who, as a 
special favor to her, would rent me her only spare room. 
As this friend of hers intended to go by water, and about 
the same time as I, she thought it an admirable plan 
that we sail together, knowing my aversion to travelling 
or living alone. 



This all sounded very attractive and tempting to me 
and I consented, and made all the arrangements for both, 
as I was not an invalid and only needed a few more 
months of outdoor life. I thought it best to rest a few 
weeks in Charleston (one of the Clyde Line ports) on 
my way, and visit the daughter of a very talented and 
charming lady, an old friend, whom I had known from 
childhood, and then join Mrs. X in A later. 

I am neither well-to-do nor a downright beggar, and 
have a small (regular) income which would enable me 
to live modestly, were it not for the tremendous increase 
of living expenses since the terrible War. I also have a 
very tiny sum safely put away, and decided to draw some 
money, in order to enable me to do a little sight-seeing 
in Florida, and to defray all the extra expense of travel. 
For I had Mark Twain's words always before me. He 
told a friend that he visited Florida for rest and change; 
and added that the railroads got all his change, and the 
hotel-keepers got the rest. I was, therefore, well-posted 
and prepared for the worst. 

Mrs. X and I sailed on the "Comanche," on 

November 12th, the day after the Armistice was signed. 
I had only a few hour's time to pack my limited 
and unnecessary paraphernalia, or impedimenta, in two 
large suit-cases, and when I landed on the pier with all 
my baggage, including the borrowed steamer-rug (mine 
having been stolen), my umbrella, coat-hangers and 
large, heavy work-bag, I certainly must have presented 
a pretty picture ; the only thing lacking to have made It 
even more picturesque being the traditional bird-cage 
and canary. 

I flattered myself that I was quite a sailor and 
experienced traveller, because I had once crossed the 
Atlantic in August without mlissing a meal. This was 
November, however, and after locating our cabin, which 
proved to be a very small, stuffy, and noisy one, next 
to Social Hall, and directly above the pantry, I was a bit 
disheartened. Instead of sailing at 12 noon, as sched- 
uled, we left the pier at 8 P. M. It was impossible to 
get enough coal and other very necessary things on board 
at the required time, as everyone had celebrated the sign- 
ing of the Armistice not wisely but too well the day 
before. 



— 6 — 



I remained on deck till about ten that night, and 
would have stayed out later, for the cabin was very hot, 
and I could find no way of turning off the steam, and 
it was impossible to get a deck-hand or room-steward to 
do it. Fortunately, our gallant Captain Chichester 
passed by, the very minute I told my cabin-mate, through 
the open window, that "I was afraid to venture into the 
cabin, because of the infernal heat."' He stopped to make 
inquiries, and then very kindly went into the cabin, 
stooped down and turned off the steam. I then ventured 
into my "Turkish room" a few minutes later, and climbed 
to the perilous upper berth without the assistance of a 
ladder. I was quite dizzy when I got up to my roost, 
and made my preparations to sleep. Only those who 
have had the misfortune to sleep in a stuffy upper berth 
with a person who is afraid of fresh air and open 
windows in the berth below can fully sympathize 
with me. 

A few minutes after I retired, the steamer began to 
pitch and toss, and all the various kinds of dishes in the 
pantry below began to dance and jig and break and 
smash by thousands, and the door opening into Social 
Hall was banged every few minutes by the passengers 
going in and out, making a harmonious (?) accompani- 
ment to the horrors of the pantry below us. I realized 
that sleep was out of the question, and that the ticket 
agent had presented me with the "juiciest little lime" 
on board. 

I was seasick all night, and could not fall asleep. 
In the middle of the night there was a terrible crash, 
and I was positive that the steamer had collided with 
another vessel and that we were drifting in mid-ocean. 
I'll not attempt to describe the shock, fright and sensa- 
tion, for I could not hear the engine and machinery work- 
ing, or feel the vibration of the propellers; and before 
the crash, the engine and propeller seemed to be working 
"overtime." After a while, I did not care how soon the 
end would come, I was so seasick. I had reached the 
third stage of seasickness; and here, for the benefit of 
those who do not know the three stages of seasickness, 
I shall mention them in order (according to Mark 
Twain). The first symptom is: "You are afraid you'll 
die"; and the second is: "You hope you'll die"; and the 
third is: "You are afraid you'll never die." For hours 



— 7 — 



I lay and tossed in this desperate condition, but felt a 
little relieved after sunrise. The Comanche is the oldest 
of the Clyde Line Steamers, I believe, and that is why 
the voyage was rough, 

I made many unsuccessful attempts to get down to 
dress, and at last landed on the floor in a heap. I slipped 
a dark, heavy dress on, but could not hook it, and. partly 
raising myself to leach for my tooth-powder, spilt the 
entire contents over my dark dress and over all the 
dark clothes I possessed, including my warm coat, which 
I was compelled to wear all the time on deck. I tried 
but could not brush the w^hite powder off, and I looked 
as if I had been dipped into a barrel of flour. I could 
not button my shoes, and every few minutes, while trying 
to hook my clothes. Td fall in a heap. 

At last I dragged my weary and bruised body on 

deck, and sent a stewardess to Mrs. X , who was also 

sick and miserable. Although it was very stormy and 
cold, and I was horribly ill, I was determined to remain 
out-doors and, as soon as I could muster up enough 
courage and stiength to speak to the Captain, who seemed 
very kind, and ask him to change our cabin if possible, 
I did so later. 

Thinking that a cup of hot coffee would brace me 
up a bit and stop the nausea, I tried to grope my way 
down to the dining-room. 

It was breakfast time and the ship crowded, but 
there was no mad rush for breakfast. I descended the 
steps, or rather, I was hurled down, and the tall, broad- 
shouldered head-waiter caught me and five other brave 
victims at the foot of the stairs. He caught me before 
much damage was done, and escorted me and the rest 
of the assemblage to our secure seats. I drank my black 
coffee in one gulp, for I was afraid that the breakfast 
of the gentleman opposite would not have a stimulating 
effect upon me, and rushed up the stairs, to avoid further 
mishaps. 

I reached the deck feeling dizzy, sank into my chair, 
and tried to cover myself with my heavy rug. I could 
not hold up my head, but I remained there about half an 
hour, when a huge wave tipped the slip, and I found 
myself on the other side of the deck, sprawling on the 
ikor, chair and all. 



I was so stunned that I could not make any attempt 
to rise, but two young Lieutenants, fellow-passengers, 
promptly came to my rescue and picked me up with my 
scattered belongings, God bless them. I then found a 
more sheltered place on deck, and stayed there all morn- 
ing. Just before noon, the Captain came with the Chief 
Steward and informed me that there was just one vac- 
ancy on board, a very desirable cabin, — "did we care to 
look at it before deciding to move?" Ill as I was. I went, 

I saw, and decided to move at once. Mrs. X was 

not so willing to move, fearing she would have to pay 
more for the better cabin. I assured her and re-assured 
her that we would not, and at last, having succeeded in 
convincing her, I folded and packed her belongings care- 
fully, threw mine into a basket and, with the assistance 
of our able-bodied Steward, moved in great 'state" to 
Cabin No. 7. 

Mrs. X was still seasick, and I helped her dress, 

etc., although I had to go out for fresh air and relief 
eveiy few minutes. We had plenty of air, space, and 
perfect quiet in the cabin to which we removed, and I 
shall always be grateful to the Captain for this and many 
other acts of kindness. 

I slept a little the following night, and the next day 
could sit up straight and eat an orange and drink coffee. 
I became acquainted with my fellow-passengers, some of 
whom proved both interesting and agreeable. The 
weather became milder and clearer, and I began to enjoy 
thoioughly the hours spent on deck, away from my 

room-mate, Mrs. X . I had sent the good Stewardess 

to take care of her, when I was too ill to be of any 

assistance. I had met Mrs. X twice before sailing. 

and I must admit that she had not made a very favorable 
impression. And it's more than likely that I had not 
impressed her favorably, either. My first impression of 
people and places is, like all women's, nine times out of ten 
the correct one ; but I persist in giving people the benefit 
of the doubt. I'm like the poor, trusting woman who 
married a man because she felt so very, very sorry for 
him, and, after she married him, she felt sorry for her- 
self, forever after. I neither liked Mrs. X 's sharp 

face nor her sharp, harsh voice, though I'll admit she 
had nice new teeth and hair. Her conversation — to say 
the least — was not instructive nor interesting. She saw 



— 9 



that the Captain bad been most kind and courteous, and 
she promptly tried to poison my mind against him, and 
to convince me that all Sea-Captains and Officers are 
villains and gay deceivers, making love to every woman 
on board the ship, while their neglected wives suffer and 
pine at home. This exquisite sentiment was repeated 
every few minutes for my special benefit. I at first tried 
to reason with her to the effect that there are exceptions 
to every rule, but then she'd start all over again. One 
of her pet subjects was the wickedness and corruption 
of the New York Four Hundred and millionaires in 
general. I again tried to reason with her, although I do 
not claim to be an authority on the subject, as my experi- 
ence with either is limited, — that human nature is the 
same the world over, and that it's just possible that we 
in their position would be worse than they. This would 
start her afresh, and I decided to make myself ''very 
scarce," so I kept "a-moving" and dodging. 

She told me that most of her time in Florida was 
spent away from home, as she was in the real estate 
business; and as I expected to spend all my time out- 
doors, in the Park or on the beach, I thought there would 
be fewer opportunities to listen to her elevating and 
enlightening discussions of her pet subjects and theories, 
and for arguments or friction. 

The last day on the ocean Was delightfully warm 
and clear, and I felt much better and stronger, but I had 
no appetite and lived on ^^ ^k coffee, crackers and 
oranges until I landed, v' "y baggage, in Charleston 

on the morning of the " .i. 




— 10 — 



A 



CHAPTER II. 
In Charleston. 

FTER an hour's racing around and waiting, I at 
last procured a hack (this at first seeming a hope- 
less task) and I arrived at the house of Mrs. L 

very warm, tired and hungry, but hopeful. She lived 
in a very large, tastefully furnished house, and let a 
few rooms — not for profit, she said, but only for con- 
venience. And here I cannot help stating very emphat- 
ically that it proved to be not at all for the convenience 
of the roomers or hoarders. I was welcomed and made 
quite comfortable in a large airy room, with nothing to 
disturb my slumbers or day dreams, except six or seven 
roosters (all very early risers) who were not members 
of the six-hour-a-day Labor Union, and who crowed day 
and night. I arrived about ten, and rested in my room 
until one, expecting to be called down to lunch. 

Feeling not only hungry but weak, I went down 

after one o'clock, and an aunt of Mrs. L , who lived 

with her, politely informed me that the cook was sick, 
and that her niece had just 'phoned, proposing that we 
go down to her tea-room for lunch, and, in fact, that we 

go there every day at noon. Mrs. L , by the way, 

was the most enterprising an^ strenuous Charlestonian 
I've ever met (or ever hope to lAeet). 

We rode down in ten minutes in her cousin's auto, 
and there was such a great rush of six people that we 
could not find seats, and had to wait an hour before we 
sat down. I was getting fainter every moment, and told 
this blue-blooded aristocrat of the South who condes- 
cended to be a business woman that I had been sea-sick, 
had not eaten a "square" meal for three whole days, and 
would be obliged to her if she'd just serve me a cup of 
coffee before I'd collapse. 

After waiting another half-hour, I was placed at 
the family table and was served soup, a dainty pimento- 
and-cheese sandwich, coffee, and two hard cookies (left- 
overs), while those at the next table were eating temp- 



— 11 — 



ting salads and chocolate layer cake. I wonder whether 
this can be the Southern hospitality we hear and read 
so much about? I had agreed to pay $15.00 a week for 
room and board, because I wished to be independent. 
Unfortunately, I'm both sensitive and proud, and my 
reception and first meal did not quite come up to my 
expectations. 

As soon as I finished my lunch, I got up and went 

up to Mrs. L at her desk and paid her the $15.00 in 

advance. I wanted it understood from the very start 
that I did not wish to "graft." 

She thanked me and asked me all about my trip. 
I repeated my tale of woe, and told her how the Captain 
had "saved" my life, and laughingly related in the pres- 
ence of some of her friends that he said I could see all 
of Charleston in three hours, and that no house had been 
erected in Charleston for the past fifty years. She flared 
up — nay — exploded as if a "U" boat bomb had struck 
her, and what she didn't say about the innocent Captain, 
in her emotional, Leslie Carter style, was not worth 
saying. I tried to quiet her by saying that he was only 
jesting, but she kept on raging and said she'd report 
him to the Clyde Line officials and to the Governor for 
making disparaging remarks about one of the Clyde Line 
ports. I was at first very much worried about this. 
I let her storm and rage and realized I was a fool to have 
paid her the $15.00 in advance, and I then decided that 
one week of Charleston was, in the language of our well- 
known comedian, Sam Bernard, "sufficiency." 

Some of the meals during that long and tiresome week 
were much better, and some worse, than the memorable 
first. I purchased milk cake, crackers and fruit in order 
not to lose weight and acquire too fashionable a figure. 

On Sunday no dinner was cooked because Mrs. L 

was baking her Christmas cake (on November 17th). 
She coolly informed me that she never prepared dinner 
on Sunday and that everyone went to the ice box at noon 
and just helped himself. I did not look or act over- 
pleased at the announcement ; and quietly said that that 
might be a splendid plan, if she had something else 
besides my own grape-fruit and a small chunk of ice in 
the refrigerator. She then cooked soup of which she 
did not partake. 



— 12 



She and her relatives told me that she was very- 
much 'run dov^n" and not v^ell. I thought it my duty 
to tell hei that she could not expect to get stronger unless 
she ate regular meais and led a less strenuous life. It 
was like talking to the wall, and I soon gave it up; yet, 
there was no need for her to work or fuss so much, or 
to do anything at all. 

She had a cold the following day and was in bed, 
and I went down to the lunch room the next two days 
to help her thin, delicate and tired-looking assistant. 
I'hings ran very much more smoothly, I thought, than 
when the propxietress engineered, and I was pronounced 
a good cashier as well as expert dish-washer. It was 
positively less strenuous than helping to nurse her; for 
she never would do as the doctor or anyone else told her. 
On Tuesday and Wednesday, at about 6:30 P. M., the 
mmute when the family, consisting of an aunt, cousin 
and elderly gentleman, an old friend of her father, the 
tiied assistant who lived there, and I sat down to eat, 
she became hysterical, so that each one's meal was left 
untouched. I was not very polite on Wednesday, and 
did not wait until everyone was served and had had just 
two mouthfuls when the aunt was called, and every one 
of us rushed up to her room to rub her hands, etc., etc. 
It seemed strange, however, that both days she'd receive 
every caller in her room and talk all day, and just at 
6 :30 P. M., as soon as the tired and hungry Coxy's Army 
sat down, there would be an immediate call to the front, 
and the dining-room promptly ''evacuated" until about 
nine, when everyone's dinner was cold and not fit to 
eat. Of course, I felt sorry for her, but I felt more sorry 
for the others, and most sorry for myself. I feared that, 
if I remained there much longer, I'd either become ill or 
have a nervous breakdown, and I rang up the Clyde Line 
office and booked on the next outgoing steamer for 
Jacksonville. 

On Friday, the 22nd, I ascended the stairway with 
all my "duds" to the wharf, which seemed like an endless 
pilgrimage to the top of our Woolworth Building. A very 
polite gentleman, accompanied by his wife, came to my 
assistance and insisted on carrying my heavy baggage. 
I met these kind people, Mr. and Mrs. Francis, later in 
West Palm Beach. 



13 — 



CHAPTER III. 

First Impressions on the East Coast of Florida 
and West Coast. 

1 SPENT a very pleasant day on board the "Huron," 
and it was with regret that I landed in Jacksonville 
and saw the last of these agreeable people. I re- 
mained on deck all morning to get the first glimpse of 
Florida, and I must say that the flat, bare land — with 
here and there a few stunted trees and shanties — did not 
make a very striking impression. The gray, threatening 
sky overhead and a chill in the air did not inspire me 
to sing or even hum Mignon's beautiful aria, "Dost 
Thou Know That Fair Land Where The Orange Flowers 
Bloom; Where The Trees Are Like Gold?" etc. I did not 
despair, however, as I knew that oranges do not grow 
profusely in Northern Florida, and the St. Johns River 
is only worth looking at a few miles below Jacksonville. 
A number of us went to a small, unpretentious hotel 
in this hustling, modern city, and after resting two days 
(while it poured) I went to a pleasant acquaintance in 
St. Augustine, who lives in a very beautiful house. Dur- 
ing the few hours of sunshine of the two days spent there, 
I had a glimpse of the oldest, quaintest streets and Fort 
in the United States, as well as the monster modern hotels 
Ponce de Leon and Alcazar, etc., and other imposing new 
buildings, as well as enjoyed seeing the beautiful drives 
and having the first glimpse of orange groves and semi- 
tropical plants and flowers. 

I then went to Palatka by bus, and then up the St. 
Johns River by boat. The stars came out just as the 
"Osceola" left her landing. And as I looked down oii 
the river, I saw a beautiful reflection of all the brilliant 
stars. That v^s a cheerful sight to me, for I had not 
seen a single star for almost a week. The air was mild, 
and as we glided up the river, the trees, covered with 
long gray moss, by star-light looked like mysterious gray 
ghosts. 



— 14 




15 — 



I later joined the happy group of passengers whom 
jolly Captain Lund was entertaining with reminiscences 
and jokes, while gazing at sky and river. He adopted me 
at once as one of the family, and I felt in a few minutes 
as much at home as those passengers who had got on 
early in the morning at Jacksonville. A kinder, wittier 
and more jovial and hospitable man I have never met; 
and that was everyone's verdict on board. How we 
regretted that our delightful sail would soon end. 

Everyone who comes to Florida should sail on the 
"Osceola" up the St. Johns River, because of the beauty 
of this winding river and the jolly time on board. One 
of the gentlemen played a guitar and the genial Captain 
sang for us. This was on Thanksgiving morning, and 
if he should ever give up his position as Captain, I'm 
positive he could command and earn a large salary as a 
singing comedian. I got on at Palatka at about 8 P. M. 
on November 27th and landed at Sanford the next day at 
noon. The weather was fair. 

I then drove about twenty-five miles (by bus) to 
Orlando, a small Garden of Eden, where I rested only 
a day at the Empire Hotel. I should have spent part of 
the winter there, but I had foolishly given my word to 

Mrs. X , and also made an appointment with Miss 

B and set a date. I cannot say enough in praise of 

Mrs., Miss and Mr. MacGruder of the Empire Hotel. They 
were most considerate and kind, and it was the only 
hotel in Florida where I got more than I bargained for. 
I engaged, at a moderate price, a room with running 
water, but Mrs.MacGruder, hearing that I was very warm 
and dusty, instructed her colored boy to connect the ad- 
joining bathroom for my private use, when she sent him 
with me to show me my room. As soon as I refreshed 
myself in cold water and ate something, I went out sight- 
seeing. I very soon got tired walking, but what I saw 
proved to be so beautiful that I wanted to see much more, 
so I hired an auto and spent hours driving in this won- 
derful land of oranges and flowers. 

Mere words cannot adequately describe the beauty 
of the well-kept orange and grape-fruit groves, the lakes 
and parks and magnificent homes and estates and hotels 
in and around Orlando and Winterpark, five miles 
distant. How I feasted my tired but hungry eyes on 
those perfect oranges, grape-fruit, etc. Such large clus- 



— 16 




17 



ters of big" oranges and lemons and heavy grape-fruit 
nestling against the rich, dark-green leaves. And the 
trees are much larger, with larger branches, than else- 
where in Florida. 

I disliked leaving this beauty-spot the next morning 
in order to keep an unimportant appointment with a lady 

in A , but duty seemed to call. I rose about five and 

left on the Tampa bus at 7 A. M., arriving in Tampa at 
12:30, almost broiled to a "frazzle" in the front seat, by 
the combined efforts of the engine and a burning, wel- 
come sun. How I regretted that I did not tiavel on the 
Atlantic Coast Line then. 

Travelling by bus enabled me to go almost all the 
way through the orange belt of Florida, as well as the 
lake region, and while I saw many pretty lakes and very 
large groves, the latter could not compare in beauty and 
quality with those of Orlando and Winterpark. 

The heat in Tampa one cannot describe; one can 
only feel. I almost collapsed, but after bathing my 
temples and face in ice water, I went to the top of the 
Hillsboro Hotel to lunch and to view the city. After 
lunch, a few hours on the shady balcony revived me, and 
at 4:45 P. M. railroad time I left by boat and arrived 

in A at 7:30 P. M., and then began the search for 

the street car to take me to the bungalow of Mrs. X . 

She had told me that it was about a mile out, very near 
a car line. I got on the car at 7:45 P. M. and handed 
the conductor my fare and the address, asking him to 
let me off when he reached the street. He looked at me, 
then at my baggage, and sorrowfully shook his head. 
"That street, the last one on this line, is not cut through 
on this side, (they call this the Jungle), and you could 
never find it in the dark, and you see it's been raining 
(I saw all right) and walking several blocks you'd get 
very wet at the crossings." I looked around. Every- 
thing was dark and dismal in this Jungle. I shuddered, 
and when the car made its final stop, I investigated 
further, but, at the Conductor's sensible suggestion, rode 
back to town and hired an auto to take me to my des- 
tination. After more than thirty minutes' riding back 
and forth, through rivers of water, I at last found the 

house and Mrs. X at home. She was sorry for me, 

that I had such difficulty to find her. Her quiet husband 
seemed very kind and they asked me whether I had had 



18 — 




— 19 — 



anything to eat. I told them I had had a sandwich 
and coffee on the boat, and that I was very, very tired, 
warm and sleepy. She insisted that I eat sometning at 
once. 

Mrs. X said that she'd do the best she could for 

me, but the freight from New York had not yet arrived, 
and the best she could offer me was a lounge. In my 
sleeping-room one window had a heavy curtain composed 
of layers of newspapers to keep out all drafts, (incid- 
entally all the fiesh air, too) and the smaller window 
was only partly open. It was one of those tropical nights 
when not a leaf stirred, and the heat and humidity, to- 
gether with my weariness, nearly prostrated me. The 
only other piece of furniture in my "sweat-room" was 
a chair, and I threw off my clothes, wet from perspira- 
tion, put on a kimono and was ushered into the dark, 
incompleted bath-room, carrying with me the dismal 
lamp from my room. There was neither light nor water 
connection, and pouring over me the tepid water, stand- 
ing in the warm room, neither cooled nor refreshed me, 
but I felt a little cleaner and went back to my luxurious 
"boudoir" to sleep. 

If ever any woman slept or tried to sleep on some- 
thing much worse than a trench-bed, that woman was I. 
I shall not try to describe the tortures of that night. It 
was daylight when I fell asleep, and before seven o'clock 
I was awakened by the clarion voice of Mrs. X giv- 
ing directions to her meek husband, who had the great 
misfortune to be very hard of hearing. I had a great 
deal of sympathy for the unfortunate man, but the longer 
I knew his wife, the more certain I was that in his case 
it was a blessing in disguise to only hear a fraction of 
that amiable lady's conversation and faultfinding, and 
that in a minor key. I doubt whether he fully appreci- 
ated how much he had to be thankful for. 

Mr. and Mrs. X insisted that I share their 

breakfast, also dinner, as Mrs. X had doubts whether 

I could find my way to the nearest lunch-room, even in 
the day-time, and I was not yet thoroughly equipped for 
light-housekeeping. I was compelled to accept their kind 
offer. She served me the best she had. 

Her good, patient husband picked oranges and grape- 
fruit and insisted I should help myself freely. I said I 
would gladly if he would let me pay for them, as they 



- 20 



only accepted the money for the room (which was very 
little, I admit), but, considering the size, bareness, lack 
of light and ventilation and that I had to pump water 
outside to drink and wash in and carry it in every few 
minutes, having no basin or pitcher, it was dear at any 
price. 

Before breakfast, I had a few minutes' time to go 
out and investigate. Yes, there were a number of orange 
and grape-fruit trees around the house, and there was an 
empty house almost across the street, and two more 
empty ones on the next street, but the nearest house 
inhabited was two blocks away. In the evening, I dis- 
covered that there was not a single light on the streets 
within half a mile of the house. Pleasant prospect of 
getting home alone from town after dark; or to be left 
alone in the house evenings, with robberies committed 
in the heart of the town that very week. 

They insisted that I wait until the afternoon, 
when she and her husband would safely pilot me to town 
and to the hotel where my steamer acquaintance, Miss 
B , lived, with whom I had foolishly made an appoint- 
ment a week previous for 2 P. M. that day (which appo- 
intment was the cause of my leaving Orlando much 
sooner than I desired). 

Miss B was an elderly, educated woman, with 

beautiful gray hair and very winning manner. She wel- 
comed me warmly, and, after a few minutes' chat, in- 
sisted that I look at houses, apartments, rooms, etc., 
which she had looked at, one of which she expected to 
share with me. I had a very hard time to convince her 
that I did not come to Florida to make money renting 
a house and letting rooms, and worrying. I had come 
for rest and recreation. If she had known that I was 
thoroughly disgusted vnth my Jungle-room, it would 
have been hard for me to escape. She was very hospit- 
able, however, and I spent a very pleasant afternoon and 
evening. 

The next few days were spent walking to town and 
back, (when it was pouring), in order to keep warm ; and 
the miserable nights on the hard lounge, where some- 
times I managed to sleep a few hours. I forgot to men- 
tion that the day after my arrival in A the thermo- 



— 21 — 



meter took a verj^ sudden drop ,and my! it was "some" 
cold in Florida for a week. 

I had a $25.00 money-order in my possession which 
I wanted to cash at the Post Office and, for the purpose 
of identification, I took my savings-bankbook with me, 
as well as my Military (State) Census card, and a card 
addressed to me by a friend that very week from Tan- 

nersville, N. Y., in care of Mrs. X at A . I cashed 

the money-order upon presenting all my credentials and 
went to a cafeteria to lunch, after which I sat on a bench 

of the principal business street waiting for Miss B , 

my steamer acquaintance, to join me for an afternoon's 
outing. I had half an hour's time and got up to walk up 
and down the street, and when I returned to the place of 
meeting, I missed my work-bag, containing the pass- 
book, cards, etc., mentioned. 

I hurried back to the cafeteria and searched every- 
where but could not find the bag. I then went to the 
Board of Trade and related my sad story; and the cool, 
unsympathetic gentleman there suggested that I notify 
my Bank in New York and advertise in the next issue 
of the local daily paper. 

I did both, but was, naturally, quite upset. I wrote 
a personal letter to the Deputy Comptroller of the Bank, 
Mr. Brennan, whom I knew to be a very kind and 

conscientious man. I met Miss B and we carried out 

the afternoon's program, but naturally I did not derive 
much pleasure that day. 

I returned to my room, and was told that the 
bag had not been returned. I figured that an honest 
and well-meaning person, seeing my name and address 

in care of Mrs. X , could easily have located her in 

the telephone book and, within less than an hour, have 
informed her or me, and thereby relieved me of great 
anxiety. 

I stayed around the house the following morning 
until almost afternoon, expecting to hear about my bag, 
when I rode to town to lunch and to take out books from 
the Circulating Library. I chatted with the Librarian 
and naturally mentioned to her what was uppermost in 
my mind — the loss of my workbag, etc. She suggested 
that I report the matter to the Police Department. I went 
there directly, but there was "nobody home." 



— 22 — 



I had something to eat and returned to the Police 
Department Office and again there was "nobody home." 
An hour later I returned and addressed one of two 
officers or detectives (although they did not look it). 
I described the bag and its contents and was asked my 
name. I promptly told him and was informed that it 
had been returned a few minutes before. I was delighted 
and asked this man who had found it, and he claimed 
he did not know, (which I did not believe). But he said: 
"Somebody found it in front of a certain Real Estate 
office, and took it in," which was impossible, as I had 
not been off Main Street with the bag or without it. 

I was so thankful for having recovered the bag that 
I did not stop to argue the matter, and thanked him 
again before leaving. Accidentally, I looked at the other 
man, and if his look of hate could have killed, I would 
have been a "dead one." I have seen a few hard 
faces, but not one to equal his. 

I then quickly returned to my Jungle and asked Mrs. 

X about my bag. She shouted, but not joyously: 

"Yes, it's here, but do you know what you have in that 
bag?" She said that as if I had a large bomb or secret 
plans and papers betraying my country to Kaiser Bill 
hidden in it. I promptly told her the entire contents. 
She grinned, and said: "Well, there's a piece of paper 
with some writing on it that the police found. You 
better get it and read it. He gave me an awful laying 
out and he came in your room and looked all around." 
(There was not much to see there). 

"I'm sorry you had any unpleasantness, but what 
business did he have in my room?" I inquired. 

"Well, read the piece of paper I seen in your bag 
that he showed me," she sarcastically replied. 

I searched my bag carefully and found, besides the 
articles mentioned, a crumpled bit of paper on which I 
had begun to write a poem in Charleston. I had to burst 
into something after the Sunday dinner before men- 
tioned. I had controlled myself sternly not to burst into 
a rage, so I had let off a bit of steam by means of the 
following harmless poetic effusion. As a joke, I wished 
to send a copy to my friends at home to sort of console 
them for not having the good fortune to go South. I 



— 23 — 



apologize for both rhyme and rhytm (but not for the 
theme) : 

''All my friends notv envy me 

Because I'm iravelling South; 

Yet, I'm an object of pity 

For I've had little in my mouth 

That can be called real food. 

My pockets too are empty — 

And I'm just beginning to brood, 

Because'^ 

And here the fickle muse must have left me, or I 
was suddenly disturbed; at any rate, I had proceeded 
no further, and had never given it another thought. In 
my desperate moments I burst into song or poetry. Some 
of my attempts possess much greater merit, but I do not 
take my poems very seriously, nor does anyone else. 
Everyone (including myself) considers it a harmless 
pastime. 

Mrs. X continued her tirade, and added: 

"The detective come here to see if you was out of 
your mind brooding and thinking to commit suicide 
because you have no money." 

I was, at first, speechless, then almost shouted : 

"Couldn't the idiot see that I have a bank balance 
large enough to carry me through two winters, even in 
Florida, living modestly and economically as I do?" 

"Well, he said only a person out of her mind would 
write such a thing," she coolly announced. 

"But if the brilliant ( ?) police cannot tell the differ- 
ence between a harmless attempt at a poem and a Chinese 
laundry ticket, is that my fault? Can't you see it's a 
humorous attempt at a poem, not finished?" I argued. 

"Well, you say you had no square meal in your 
mouth," she replied indignantly. I had eaten two of her 
meals and her vanity was hurt — she thought she was 
"some" cook. 

"But this was written in Charleston, and I've eaten 
a good many square meals since I came away from there, 
and you saw how seasick I was and could not eat any 
solids, and I told you I fared badly in Charleston!" I 
shouted, getting extremely excited and concluding that 
"if I remain in this town a few days longer, I certainly 
will become insane." 



— 24 — 



She was not convinced and continued her insults. 
I then and there decided to communicate with a friend, 
a Mrs. Stalker, at West Palm Beach, at once, and join 
her without much delay ; although Mrs. X's furniture had 
ai rived, and I had a most comfortable bed, rocker, etc., 
in my room. 

I went into my room, wrote my letter, drank some 
tea to steady 'j;^y nerves and later tried to sleep, but I 
was much too excited, and tossed until morning. 

After a hasty breakfast, I rode to town and related 
to my few pleasant acquaintances my strange experience, 
and, after they had comforted and soothed me, I went 
to Foster's Information Bureau to find out the best way 
to go to West Palm Beach by way of Miami, in order to 
see another friend. 

A very agreeable young woman in the Bureau ad- 
vised me to go by boat from Tampa to Key West, and 
by train through the Keys to Miami, then by bus to my 
final destination. She said it was the most expensive 
way of travelling, but I could see a great deal more than 
by going directly by rail ; and of course I wanted diver- 
sion to forget my troubles. 

I had to wait six days for the next boat, which gave 
me ample time to hear from my friend in West Palm 
Beach as to accommodations. 

I shall not describe my feelings or condition during 

the remainder of my stay in A . My acquaintances 

were most sympathetic and planned outings in order that 
I forget my grievances against the Police Department. 
One excursion to a Gulf of Mexico beach, Pass-a-Grille, 
on a clear, warm day was delightful. The sky was per- 
fect, the water smooth like a pond, and the color of it 
not merely heavenly, but the most delicate light green, 
with the whitest, cleanest and widest beach imaginable. 
We gazed and gazed, and when our eyes became tired, 
picked beautiful shells the entire day. 

The day before I left, I visited a lady who had been 

robbed of $3,500.00 worth of jewels in A and she 

told me that there was no clue to the robbery and that 
the police were so indifferent in the matter that she had 
published a ver>^ strong article in the Tampa papers about 
it. I told her how intelligently the police acted in my 
case, and in mv bitterness I remarked that she could not 



— 25 — 



expect them to spend any time or thought on a mere 
$3,500.00 robbery when a dangerous offender, writing 

a poem apparently criticizing the meals of A was 

running around loose. 

She was very much amused, and when I further told 
her that they dared to enter my room and examined the 
contents of my bag, which was far exceeding their 
authority according to the New York law, as I was 
neither accused nor convicted of a crime, nor a witness 
in a criminal case, she suggested that I write to the 
Tampa papers, as they would treat the matter fairly. 
I answered that I would only then consent to have my 
name appear in print if it could help her to recover her 
jewelry. This lady, who is very intelligent, feared that 
it would not help her case, so I decided not to write. 




— 26 — 



CHAPTER IV. 

Sail to Key West and Back to East Coast of Florida. 

THE sail down the Gulf of Mexico, lasting a day and 
night, was without any thrills or incidents, but the 
weather was fair and warm, and watching the 
ever-changing shades of blue and green of the Gulf was 
a beautiful sight to me. 

I thoroughly enjoyed the meals and chats on deck 
and was quite amused by the persistent attempts of a 
missionary's wife (Seventh day Adventist) to convert 
me. She was a charming person; but wasted too many 
hours trying to reclaim my lost soul. I did not wish to 
be saved just in her particular way, and she realized at 
last that I was a hopeless case. There were several 
Methodist ministers returning from a Conference to Key 
West, and they were exceedingly kind to me without 
trying to convert me. One of them, a tall, very pale 
gentleman, helped me locate my hotel in Key West. I 
trust that he has fully recovered his strength. His thin, 
pale face and occasional cough worried me. 

I reached the Key West Hotel late in theafternoon 
and got quite dizzy when I glanced at the thermometer 
on December 13th. It was broiling hot, and the minute 
I got into my room, I rang for ice water, and then pre- 
pared to take a cold bath in order to cool off, both inter- 
nally and externally. The instant I opened the faucet, 
the strong odor of the water and the color of it disgusted 
me. I let it run a while and realized I could not bathe 
in Key West, if I never took another bath in my life. 
The sweet perfume of onions, garlic, ancient eggs and 
gas we are all familiar with, but this delicious extract 
of strong odors they call water in Key West smells as 
if all the above-named highly scented ingredients were 
put into a large bin and a tight lid put over it and left 
to ferment about ten years, and only then permitted to 
be used. Ye Gods! I almost fainted, and I quickly 
turned off and got rid of all the aqua and waited until 



27 



some of the ice in my pitcher melted (the small colored 
boy was generous in handing out ice, for which may the 
angels always guard him !) and I took a sponge bath. 

An hour later I was in a street car on a "tour of in- 
spection." I enjoyed the refreshing breezes on the ocean- 
side and spent so much of my time there that I had no 
time left to see much of the town, and had to hurry back 
in order to leach the Hotel before dark. Almost everybody 
here looked Spanish and spoke Spanish (as well as on 
the steamer). 

Early in the morning I was in the train bound for 
Miami. It was a hot, sultry day, but the windows were 
all open, and as we glided up thiough the Keys, over the 
most beautiful body of water I ever saw, I was enchanted. 
I shall not attempt to describe the symphony of pastel 
shades during a thunder-storm lasting about ten minutes. 
Two rainbows added greatly to the beauty of the blending 
of light greens, blues, tans and cream of the water and 
the sky. 

I gazed until my eyes almost closed and then I began 
to reflect for a few minutes that after all it's man's 
genius as well as his great enterprise that made it possi- 
ble to plan and construct the most wonderful railway in 
the world, on water practically for miles and miles. At 
times I worry too much — and usually cross a bridge long 
before I get to it ; but I never thought it possible that I 
could safely cross so many and such long ones, all in one 
morning. I arrived in Miami extremely tired. 

Among my acquaintances in Miami was a gentleman 
whom I had met on the steamer coming to Jacksonville, 
who did everything in his power to make me fall in love 
with Miami at first sight. I saw Miami Beach by moon- 
light, rode across the beautiful Bay of Biscayne and over 
the three and a half mile bridge, before I had time to 
open my suitcase in the clean, neatly furnished room of 
the United States Hotel. It was sizzling hot. 

There is something about the atmosphere of this 
beautiful, prosperous city and vicinity that I cannot quite 
describe. An air of gayety and good cheer on everyone's 
sunburnt face, and in the hotels and restaurants the 
broad, manly shoulders of the officers (mostly from the 
Aviation Camp) with their intelligent, smiling faces, and 
the attractively gowned women, all wore a festive air. 



— 28 




- 29 — 



Every tourist drives around the James Deering 
Estate, and I lost no time in seeing this choice garden 
spot of Florida, and the beautiful cocoanut grove leading 
to it. The natural grov^th here is luxuriant, and the vast 
amount of wealth, scientific know^ledge and labor com- 
bined spent to develop it, have made this a paradise of 
beauty. It would be useless to mention the various 
kinds of tropical plants, trees and gorgeous flowers and 
ferns. I shall leave all that to the imagination. 

There are so many places of interest to see near 
Miami that I had little time to rest. A few hours spent 
around the Aviation Camp, alligator farms and Charles 
Deering Estates, were well utilized. 

I was urged to spend the entire winter in this large 
Garden of Eden, but firstly, Mrs. Stalker expected me in 
West Palm Beach, and secondly, I needed rest and quiet 
diversion much more than gayety and excitement; and 
so I said goodbye to my kind and hospitable Miami 
acquaintances, and after three days of thorough enjoy- 
ment, I drove up the Dixie Highway to West Palm Beach 
on December 18th. Mrs. Stalker and her brother waited 
when the bus arrived and found accommodations for me 
for the night. 




— 31 — 



CHAPTER V. 

In West Palm Beach. 

AFTER my round of pleasure in Miami, I needed 
perfect quiet, and found it in an old-fashioned 
house that I chose as the most desirable of the 
many at which I looked. 

I must admit that West Palm Beach did not impress 
me very favorably at first; even Palm Beach seemed 
second to Miami and Orlando. 

The famous Royal Poinciana and Breakers Hotels 
were not open and they are very imposing in size but not 
striking in grandeur and architectural beauty. I prefer 
the location of The Breakers, facing the ocean, while 
only at the height of the season, when the spacious 
grounds and walks around the Poinciana were all aglow 
with indescribably beautiful flowers, shrubs and trees, 
did I begin to "take notice," and a few promenades and 
chair rides on Australian Pine Walk connecting the two 
giant hotels and the Lake Trail from Singers' Everglades 
Club all the way up to 'The Garden of Eden' is a sight 
fit for the Gods. By moonlight it is not only a scene 
from Fairyland, but a succession of enchanting scenes. 
At first I thought the oceanside heavenly; then as I 
passed the brilliantly lighted hotels, I thought that man's 
ingenuity and wealth rivalled nature's marvels of loveli- 
ness, until I "hit" the trail — and then I still could not 
choose "favorites" like the puzzled young man who 
adored a blonde, a brilnette and a Burne-Jones beauty 
all at the same time, as very often happens, and could not 
quite make up his mind which one to ask to be his wife. 
I was in the same position until I spent a few afternoons 
on the small pier near the Poinciana. gazing up and 
down Lake Worth and the Flagler Mansion, which to me 
looks like a large park museum, while listening to the 
band concert on the Colonnade of the monster hotel, and 
later in the afternoon went to Cocoanut Grove near the 
Poinciana for a cup of tea, and to watch the dancing. 



— 32 — 




— 3:5 



The sun went down and the long garlands of electric 
lights of many brilliant hues, suspended high amidst the 
rare tropical trees and shrubs, seemed like a scene from 
"Mid-Summer Night's Dream," so that it was less diffi- 
cult to choose my favorite spot in Palm Beach. 

The colored band melodies made me long for a jolly 
one-step or trot, but I was quite content to see the beau- 
tifully-gowned women (some of whom were very simply 
but tastefully dressed, others overdressed) whirl and 
twirl with their partners, mostly in Palm Beach or white 
flannel suits. The blending of the colors of the happy 
throng rivalled once more nature's tropical color scheme. 

As I looked past the Grove at the constant stream 
of wheel chairs of gay tourists and the less fortunate 
ones promenading and very often pausing to watch the 
dancers and their expensive attire, sometimes not with 
admiration or out of curiosity, but with pardonable 
heart-ache, I was so thankful that I was perfectly 
satisfied to be in the "swim," once or possibly twice dur- 
ing the entire season, in a simple white skirt and waist, 
and that I really found keener enjoyment sitting quietly 
on the sand, listening to the music of the waves, and 
watching the ever-changing colors of ligth and dark 
greeii and blue of the ocean, or revelling in the beauty 
of the- hibiscus, also the oleanders and orange blossoms 
and their fragrance. 

During the first month of my stay in West Palm 
Beach, I sat and listened to the concerts, and read or 
gossiped in the park near the lake and took short auto 
rides to and around Palm Beach, or crossed the ferry 
over Lake Worth and retired very early evenings. My 
landlady said that I wasted too much of my time in bea 
and so I promised to reform later and go to an occasional 
dance or the "movies."' I bathed a few times at Gus's 
and enjoyed not only my dip, but meeting a few kindred 
spirits, so that after a while every clear, warm day Fd 
bask, chat and dream in the sun, on the sand, and then 
rush into the ocean and actually get all wet and remain 
much longer in the surf than most women. But then, I 
wore only a cheap bathing outfit and had not much of a 
figure to exhibit. 

Genial Gus Jordan and Photographer Landes and 
his wife, Mr. and Mrs. Wennersten, Dr. and Mrs. Miller 



34 















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— 35 — 




— 36 — 



and Mrs. J. Miller "adopted" me and I "adopted" the 
dearest little kiddie, Christina Joan Plumb, who prono- 
unced her name "Titina Doany Bum." "Doany Bum," 
as we all called her, was twenty-seven months old when 
I fell in love with her,, and she and her parents, older 
brother of about five, and the other habitues of this 
Bohemian Palm Beach bathing resort mentioned, spent 
many delightful hours together. Mrs. Seaman's young 
giandchildren, of two and four, delighted many bathers 
with their swimming and diving. 

Mrs. Stalker came down with me almost every day 
to swim and tried hard to get me married. In fact, she 
tried too hard. If the poor unsuspecting men only knew 
what her "honorable" intentions were, they'd be running 
yet. Having no mother and father to urge me to marry 
and raise a family, she proposed to guide my destiny, 
as she thought that it was dangerous to delay much 
longer. 

Mrs. Stalker gave me vocal lessons in Bensonhurst, 
but when I came to her. my small voice had already been 
practically "ruined," so it is not her fault if I cannot 
sing. 

Any unattached male from eighteen to eighty could 
not escape her eagle eye, and she would introduce one 
after the other, trusting that I would become smitten in 
this land of romance, and return North a happy bride. 

After a while she gave it up in disgust, and told 
me in the presence of some of my acquaintances that I 
was a hopeless old maid and deserved to remain one, for 
I always ran away from every man whom she introduced 
to me. I saucily answered that the devil himself would 
lun away from some of her eligibles. Unfortunately, I 
cannot help my disposition, and, realizing how anxious 
she was on my account, I became self-conscious and 
distant, and rarely talked to the Palm Beach and West 
Palm Beach irresistibles, as one of us had to have a little 
pride and dignity. 

At one time her hopes ran high. I met, through an 
extremely charming Chicago lady and her husband, a 
dashing foreign sport, — the typical male butterfly, and 
somewhat of a Don Juan. I chatted with him a few 
times, but, seeing that he was even gayer than I sus- 
pected, I avoided him later, and poor Mrs. Stalker's 
hopes were once more shattered. 



— 37 — 



She then placed her designs on the handsomest, most 
intellectual and distinguished-looking man on the beach, 
and I admit that this time she showed excellent taste and 
judgment, but I was so embarrassed by her attempts to 
lasso him that I was too ashamed to even glance in his 
direction, although I was acquainted with some of the 
members of his charming family. 

We had many friendly disputes and I frankly told 
her that she was far too anxious to find me a husband. 
She replied that the desired end justified the means, 
which at my age was growing desperate. I didn't agree 
with her. 

After a while I did not bathe every clear, warm day, 
because I began to lose weight. Yes, my figure was at 
last quite fashionable, and instead of curves I could now 
boast of lines, and even angles. 

Time began to hang heavily on my hands and 1 
joined The West Palm Beach Tourist Club, newly or- 
ganized, and presided over by Dr. Schwartz, a very able 
gentleman of much wit. 

We had very pleasant weekly meetings and some- 
times excellent entertainments — also refreshments. 

At one of these meetings a Mr. Alfred H. Wagg, a 
member and President of a South Palm Beach Develop- 
ment Company, invited the entire Club, first to a moon- 
light sail on Lake Worth, to be followed by a dance at 
the South Palm Beach Community Club ; and later in the 
week, to a Washington's Birthday celebration. This was 
all at Mr. Wagg's or his Company's expense, and I was 
so enthusiastic about Mr. Wagg's charm and wit as a 
host and the community spirit in general, and last but 
not least Mr. Morgenthau's — the Vice-President's — warm 
welcome to the Tourist Club, that I was tempted to buy 
two lots there, although I had been reckless enough to 
purchase two lots — in one of my weak moments else- 
where from one of three clever gentlemen. 

I quite forgot to mention that if one has little or no 
scruples about accepting free auto rides and sails to 
the different Land Development Auction Sales a few 
miles distant, one may have a pleasant day's free outing 
six days out of seven, either to North or South Palm 
Beach, Lake Worth, Poinciana or Royal Parks, etc., etc., 
and win candy and valuable prizes besides. 



38 



The same day that I purchased lots (my first of- 
fense) I was invited to an old-fashioned home dinner by 
the clever gentlemen mentioned, in the Club House of 
this Land Improvement Company, (not the South Palm 
Beach Development Co.,) and promptly at six, two of 
the trio came for me and we drove to the club house. It 
was a cold day and when we arrived, the President, 
standing in front of a warm log fire in the cozy dining- 
room, welcomed me and, after removing my wraps, I was 
invited to sit down to a very well cooked and beautifully 
served dinner. The only thing that marred the perfec- 
tion of the meal was the absence of ladies. It's true that 
I passed the "broiler" age long, long ago; but Fm 
Hungarian by birth, and although I was brought up in 
this countiy and am thoroughly American in all respects, 
I've inherited some of the old-world ideas of my ances- 
tors. As a young girl, I was considered quite a belle and 
somewhat of a Bohemian in spirit, but I only enjoyed 
going out when properly chaperoned. And a few years 
after, when I sometimes ventured to places of amuse- 
ment alone with a gentleman, there was always a sort of 
restraint and ''frost in the air" that I could not over- 
come — and yet at dinners and dances, or at any gather- 
ing of intimate friends, no one could be quite as jolly 
and lively as I. 

I frankly told them that I would have preferred not 
to be the only female star in the firmament, as I'm a 
very old-fashioned woman ; but I made the best of it and 
enjoyed the meal, and at half past seven the good-look- 
ing President left me at my door. 

I wrote to some friends that I was not only becom- 
ing reckless and purchasing land, but getting quite gay, 
dining alone with three gentlemen (an old female colored 
servant I had quite forgotten to mention). 

Somehow I regretted this land purchase, and when 
I bought the two lots at South Palm Beach, Mr. Wagg 
accepted the deed for this land as part payment, and I 
may be too optimistic, but I believe in a few years I shall 
realize much more than I paid for the South Palm Beach 
lots, and shall not feel sorry that I disposed of the other 
land. 

During the remainder of my stay, I attended a few 
song recitals by Miss Lina Conkling, whose singing was 
delightful and personality more than pleasing. I also 



— 39 — 



attended four dances of the South Palm Beach Commun- 
ity Club, some of which I thoroughly enjoyed. Une 
evening we danced by moonlight in "Cocoanut Grove, 
Jr." (as it was christened). The reflection of the moon 
on the smooth waters of Lake Worth, the millions of 
stars, the gentle breezes and the sweet strains of the 
violin and piano, while old and young danced gracefully 
out-doors, was something to remember. 

I met some very charming and most considerate 
people at the Tourist Club and elsewhere, and about the 
middle of March, after the Sun Dance, a number of them 
left West Palm Beach, and here I must pause lest I for- 
get to mention the Seminole Sun Dance later. A very 
attractive program, lasting three days and evenings, 
March twelfth, thirteenth and fourteenth, was arranged, 
and for weeks the bustle and excitement and prepara- 
tions stirred West Palm Beach as it had not been stirred 
before since my arrival. Unfortunately, it rained the 
second and third days, and the Grand Pageants, and 
Masque Ball were postponed. I saw practically all the 
parades, pageants, fire works and dances, heard the 
singing, and masked and marched with the gay throng 
the last evening and had an excellent time, but I wish 
there had been more genuine Seminole Indians taking 
part in the dancing and processions. 

Towards the end of March, the tourists began to 
pack and leave by the hundreds, and I was at times 
lonely without some of my good friends. 

I had a few delightful moonlight drives with Mrs. 
Lewis J. Miller, her kind, beautiful and sympathetic 
daughter, — husband and others. 

For my last evening with them in West Palm Beach, 
they planned a moonlight ride and a little dancing at 
Gus's, but I still had some of my clothes to pack, and 
as I expected to get up at 5 A. M., to go all the way by 
auto to Jacksonville in one day, (never again!), I was 
compelled to go home before ten after one dance. Mrs. 
Miller baked delicious cake and her daughter made very 
good candy to eat on the long journey and wrote a very 
touching little poem, that almost made me cry. 

Mrs. Landes came to say goodbye and gave me many 
beautiful pictures of Palm Beach photographed by her 
husband, saying: "You can feast your eyes on those 
whenever you long to be in Florida." 



40 



Mrs. Garrett, a very amiable New Jersey lady, who 
lived in the same house, got up at five in the morning 
to make breakfast for me, so that, all in all, I thought 
everybody was much kinder than I deserved. 

The late Horace Greeley said that Milford, in Pike 
County, Pennsylvania, is the home of politicians, rattle- 
snakes and bad whiskey. Now, Florida is famous for its 
climate, fine hotels, tropical trees and flowers, oranges 
and grape-fruit, lemons, alligators, etc., and from ob- 
servation and experience, I shall add that it harbors a 
variety and quantity of widows. It can be called the 
Mecca of all widows from the United States and Canada. 
They are of all ages and sizes, "grass" and "sod," rich 
and poor, old and young, handsome and unattractive, sad 
and gay, pensive and merry, dull and brilliant, deep and 
shallow, naive and subtle; in fact, it would take too long 
to enumerate the many species of this precious clinging 
vine, if I may so presume to call them ; and possibly that 
is the reason that so many men come to Florida every 
winter. I really cannot blame the men, if they find the 
widows so irresistibly attractive. 

A veiy facetious gentleman once asked me why 
babies and widows are alike. I had to give up the 
conundrum, and he said: "Because, after six months, 
they all stop crying and begin to look around and take 
notice." Now, I'm not repeating this out of mere bitter- 
ness, although widows are such dangerous rivals that 
whenever a gentleman pays me any attention and I see a 
widow approaching in the far distance, no matter how 
unatti active she may appear to me, I scent danger and 
gracefully and quietly retreat. I told the same gentleman 
that I'd love to be a fascinating widow without being 
compelled to go through the formality of marrying and 
disposing of a husband. He looked at me queerly and 
left me quite suddenly. Of course, it was rather a startl- 
ing statement, but then, this man could not possibly place 
himself in the position of a young or old bachelor girl, 
who has to compete with genuine widows. Widows should 
be handicapped like expert swimmers in a race, and we 
helpless old and young maids given some advantage ; be- 
cause unconsciously they, the widows, are the most 
scientific and expert anglers on the globe; and what 
earthly chance has a mere maid when a widow arrives on 
the scene? 



— 41 — 



A hopeful Boston widow of about seventy took me 
into her confidence and said that, before she came to 
Florida, she was under the impression that one had many 
opportunities to meet millionaires, to which I pertly re- 
plied : "Well, not if they saw us first." A very gracious 
gentleman, over fifty, invited me for a short drive, and 
I asked this widow to join us. The next day she came 
to me with his full pedigree and financial rating and in- 
come, and I was so disgusted that I could not be even 
civil to her. 

There are many who think that the winter's crop of 
Florida millionaires is an unusually large one ; but as I 
never stepped inside of the Breakers or Royal Poinciana 
Hotels or the Country Club at Palm Beach, I plead 
ignorance; and besides, in my travels, I found that the 
confidence men (and Florida has its share of them) very 
often look like millionaires, and the millionaires look like 
confidence men. 

Very many Northern people think that only mil- 
lionaires can afford to spend a winter in Florida. I ad- 
mit that, travelling from place to place, requires a great 
deal of money ; living at the large Palm Beach, Miami 
and St. Augustine hotels is not for the struggling middle 
class American ; but a family satisfied with a small 
bungalow or a cozy apartment, or furnished rooms, with 
light-housekeeping privileges, can live in West Palm 
Beach or in any other unpretentious Florida resort with- 
out spending a penny more than in New York or Chicago 
or Cleveland. Of course, there was a time when eggs and 
butter cost an exhorbitant amount in West Palm Beach 
that winter, and there was a general howl and growl on 
the part of the tourist, but in a few days the price of eggs 
dropped almost fifty per cent. I'm not a very shrewd 
buyer, but those who know how to bargain and did not 
mind walking or riding a few extra blocks, saved money. 
The rates in boarding-houses were not a cent higher than 
in the White Mountains, say, last summer; if anything, 
they were a little lower. 

When I was in A on the Western Coast I was 

quite amused by the many warnings not to venture to the 
Atlantic Coast, and when I reached Miami, and said I 
expected to spend many months inWest Palm Beach, I 
was told that I'd be disappointed; and when 1 reached 
West Palm Beach, and spoke to the natives and winter 



42 — 



residents about the beauty and charm of Miami or Or- 
lando, some would grow quite indignant. Everyone in 
these different towns acted as if it were a personal insult 
if I found anything worth seeing in any other place but 
his own. 

This is neither just nor kind. Each section has its 
strong claim to loveliness of scenery or particular charm 
or ideal climate to recommend it, and it's belittling the 
beauty of the whole State by this blindness to all that is 
attractive in a neighboring or distant town in Florida. 

I left West Palm Beach by auto about seven in the 
morning and found little to interest me until we reached 
Indian River and saw the orange groves and beautiful 
homes and gardens all along the Dixie Highway for miles 
and miles on the banks of this beautiful river. We had 
no time to see much of Daytona in the afternoon, but 
what I did see makes me wish to return and see much 
more. When I arrived in Jacksonville, after 9 P. M. the 
same day, my head and spine ached beyond description ; 
but the lady and her two children with whom I shared 
the automobile and expenses came just in the nick of 
time to catch the night train for St. Louis. I shall never 
again attempt to cover three hundred and twentyseven 
miles by auto in one day. 

Fortunately the ''Comanche" did not sail on the day 
scheduled, and I was able to rest two days in Jackson- 
ville. The weather was perfect, and remained so during 
my entire trip. I was at last a good sailor, ate well and 
had many very interesting chats with Captain and Mrs. 
Johnston and others on board. My room-mate was both 
sea-sick and stubborn and no one could induce her to 
come on deck for four days. I coaxed and all our 
acquaintances coaxed and Captain Chichester coaxed 
her to get out on deck, but she remained firm. After the 
Captain's final unsuccessful plea, he told me that the 
only way to get her out on deck would be to set fire to 
the ship ; but of course that would have been rather an 
expensive and unusual way to cure sea-sickness. After a 
while, I saw it was quite useless to advise her, and she 
did not get out of bed until the "Comanche" landed at 
the pier. 

Our beautiful harbor with its many familiar sights, 
and my smiling nephew and niece at the pier, made me 
reconciled to leave my garden playground — for a while. 



— 43 — 



CHAPTER VI 



Last and Lasting Impressions. 

IN January, 1920, I again visited West Palm Beach, 
and found very few changes. There were many more 
tourists than during January of the previous year. 

In January. 1921, it was impossible to remain away 
from West Palm Beach ('T had the habit") and my, 
what wonderful changes! 

The City Park in the evening with its rows of 
suspended, colored electric lights, rivalled in beauty and 
richness of color, Cocoanut Grove on the Royal Poin- 
cianna Grounds, in Palm Beach, after sunset. With the 
difference, that there were more than 1000 people com- 
fortably seated, and that the admission was free. Instead 
of listening to Jazz music, I had the good fortune to 
listen to Harold Bachman's ''Million Dollar Band." 

The selections seemed carefully chosen with the de- 
sire to please the different tastes of the tourists, and 
most artistically rendered. 

This is no reflection on the "Home Band." For an 
amateur organization, with but little time to practice, 
they play a number of selections and dance music well. 
Yet a growing and progressive town, like West Palm 
Beach, requires the best music and musicians, not only 
to hold the loyal Palm Beachers', but to attract new 
visitors. 

Those who had the City's interest and growth more 
at heart, than the mere sentiment for the encouragement 
of home talent, realized the need of re-engaging Mr. 
Bachman's Band for next winter. Here, lest I appear 
even more inconsistent than it is most women's privilege 
to be, I better explain that I was disappointed when I 
heard that Mrs. Nicoll's "Boston Fadettes' did not procure 
the engagement. 

I greatly admii^ed Mrs. Nicolls as a woman of un- 
usual wit and amiability (I had never heard her to ad- 
vantage as a musician). I was almost determined not 



44 




45 



to like the usurpers (the breezy westerners). Well, — I 
heard them once, and I heard them twice, and reserved 
decision. The third time, it was all over with my loyalty 
to Mrs. Nicolls. After that evening I missed but few 
concerts, and usually lead in the applause. 

It is difficult to tear myself away from dwelling on 
Mr. Bachman's qualifications as graceful and efficient 
conductor. But it is not only music that "hath charms" 
for me, but scenery as well. 

I walked down to the Lake front and instead of 
sand heaps, I beheld a Lake Drive of beautiful Royal 
and cocoanut palms, flowers and genuine Northern 
lawns. And found benches along the shore to rest under 
the trees, while watching wild ducks and sea gulls or 
gazing accross. Lake Worth to the opposite shore, with 
its Flagler Mansion, Everglades Club, etc. 

Instead of my feet sinking in the sand, I strolled on 
a white stone walk, along the shore, and saw a very im- 
posing, ultra-modern building, the Lake Court Apart- 
ment House Corner of Fern Street and Flagler Boule- 
vard. 

The following day driving accross the bridge to 
bathe at Gus's, we did not have to stop to pay toll, as 
during previous winters. A saving of money and time. 

And last, but not least the drinking water that 
looked hke strong tea in 1918, and like weak tea in 1919, 
was and is as clean and pure as well as delicious as Po- 
land Spring's water, only not as cold or hard. I cannot 
drink enough of it. It's very fortunate that I relish it so 
much internally as well as externally since Prohibition 
is here to stay. 

The one thing that seemed a source of worry and 
great inconvenience to all the householders, hotelkeepers, 
etc., was the weak and insufficient gas pressure during 
the early winter months. 

Every one not only joked but many said harsh 
things. I plead guilty to a little slam myself. 

About March 8, just about the time of the Seminole 
Sun Dance, this was not only remedied, but the pressure 
was so strong that some of us, who are never satisfied, 
began to find fault again. 

But, "everything is well that ends well" — and I can- 
not end without enthusing — once more about the great 
improvements in the Park and Lake-Shore — and praise 



46 



is due not only to the present city administration, but 
particularly Mayor D. F. Dunkle, with whom the subject 
of park improvement is more than a hobby. 

And as to the climate of this region one disagree- 
able day from January 20 to March 11. There was 
sufficient rain, but fortunately, only at night or 
evenings, and but one day without Florida's glorious 
sunshine. 




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